


I can take it if you need to take this out on someone

by FuryBeam136



Series: fics fury wrote on their 3ds at like 1am [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Gavin Reed is a Little Shit, Hurt Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Whump, connor was just trying to be nice, gavin hurts connor because hes an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 22:07:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20239246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryBeam136/pseuds/FuryBeam136
Summary: "You're just a fucking machine. No one will care if I fuck you up a bit.""You're right," is all Connor can think to say.





	I can take it if you need to take this out on someone

Gavin Reed is not a man who likes Connor by any stretch. And Connor doesn't like being hated. He tries everything he can think of to get Gavin to so much as tolerate him, which never seems to work in his favor.

It shouldn't be a problem. Connor doesn't need Gavin to like him. But he _wants_ him to. He wants to get along with his coworkers, which happens to include Detective Reed.

So Connor goes out of his way to visit the detective with a container of chocolate chip cookies, which, according to his research, is a universally appreciated gift and/or peace offering. And he's more than a little surprised when Gavin answers the door with wet eyes and tear tracks on his cheeks.

"Fuck," the detective says. "Thought you were Tina. Uh. I'm not home. Bye."

"Detective, I brought you cookies as proof of my intentions to become better acquainted with you." Something about Gavin's expression tells Connor he was too stiff with his delivery. He winces and holds out the container. "Please take them. Perhaps they will make you feel better...?"

Gavin huffs and accepts the offer, Connor stands awkwardly on the doorstep, which seems to annoy Gavin further.

"Stop with your fucking blank stare. I took the cookies. Get out of here."

"Detective, my scans indicate that you are in great emotional distress-"

"That's none of your fucking business," Gavin growls, shoving Connor backwards.

"Detective, if you would be a little more cautious-"

"You're just a fucking machine. No one will care if I fuck you up a bit."

"You're right," is all Connor can think to say. He sighs in defeat. "I'll be leaving now."

"I don't think I got through to you," Gavin says, voice low and dangerous. "You're not leaving just yet."

Connor steps forward, confused. Hands are immediately shoving him into a wall, and the door closes. Something about the way it shuts feels final. Connor feels shut into the space.

"Detective Reed-"

"Shut up."

"I-I really must be going, I-"

At those words, Gavin throws his first punch, striking Connor square in the jaw. "I tell you to shut up, you fucking shut up." The next blow strikes beside his Thirium pump, which beats rapid and erratic as fear begins to grip Connor's body, and remains there for a long moment.

"Repairs for my model are quite expensive, Detective, please-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Gavin shouts, and then Connor feels him reach for his throat. "I don't give a fuck how expensive you are, I need to get some shit out of my system and you're gonna be my punching bag."

Connor writhes in pain as Gavin presses into his throat hard enough to crack the frame. It's a bearable, but continuous stinging, and then suddenly a fist it being driven into the cracked chassis and Connor tries to scream. Burning static is all that comes out.

"That's better," Gavin says. And then there is relative silence.

Connor struggles against the absurdly strong human, to no avail. He finds himself at the mercy of a man who hates him. And he can do nothing but try desperately to heave air into his artificial lungs.

A particularly forceful blow to his abdomen leaves Connor dazed as his thirium pump regulator stutters. He claws at Gavin's arms, his legs, anything he can reach, but the detective doesn't even pause in his assault.

Tina Chen's arrival is a blessing. The door opens and Connor bolts for it, stumbling over nothing and yet still making it out. He aches all over, and blue blood leaks from several wounds. He manages to stumble into the relative privacy of a nearby alleyway before his legs give out.

Connor forces air into his system in an attempt to cool off, mechanical wheezing the only sound he makes as he lies weak and bleeding. He thinks to call Hank. But Hank won't care, will he? It's like Gavin said.

Connor coughs, droplets of thirium falling from his lips. He needs repairs. If he doesn't get repairs, he'll die. He doesn't want to die.

He must have called Hank, because suddenly the lieutenant's voice is in his head, all too loud against the pain.

"Hank," he manages, and immediately confusion turns to concern. He can barely understand what Hank is asking him but he thinks maybe he wants to kmow where Connor is.

Connor sends his location to the lieutenant's phone and waits.

It's a few minutes later when Connor hears a car approaching and footsteps pounding towards him. He winces when hands try to lift him, but Hank's voice is there, and there's no way he's going to be hurt if Hank is here.

He tries to call Hank's name. Static burns his throat instead. "I'm here, Son." Connor relaxes into Hank's grip and closes his eyes. "You're going to be okay."

In the moments before Connor falls into stasis, he believes it.


End file.
